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Day #311: Dental Denial

The Story:

Dennis couldn’t wait for tomorrow. For over a month now, he’d been looking forward to this day, like a kid counting down the days till Christmas; Dennis had meticulously ‘Xed’ out each day on the calendar leading up to tomorrow. And now, it was almost here. It had been too long since he remembered feeling like this, for a variety of reasons (also known as his newly divorced ex-wife) he’d gone for years without it- but that was about to change, and it was going to hurt.

It’s not that he ‘liked’ pain, exactly; I mean he wasn’t one of those sick freaks you see on the Internet asking fat women to sit on them or dudes to come over and punch them in the junk, nothing that weird. Dennis just… let’s see, what’s the right word?… he ‘appreciated’ being ‘put in his place’, shall we say. To be honest, it’s not all that uncommon, for a man with Dennis’ power and wealth to, every so often, seek out ways to feel like the rest of us do on a daily basis.

All the arrangements had been made months ago, all Dennis had to do was show up and the rest would be taken care of. Pouring three fingers of his best scotch into a cut-crystal glass, Dennis made his way to his study and leaning back in his overstuffed desk chair began to imagine all the different ways he would be made miserable tomorrow as he swirled the liquor in front of him. He’d be restrained, there was no doubt about that- that was one of his favorite parts. The lighting would be harsh, glaring. The temperature inside would be almost unbearably frigid, especially in the cotton slacks and polo shirt he planned on wearing for the occasion. Things would be shoved in his mouth, he’d be exposed repeatedly to dangerous elements, sharp menacing tools would be used to poke and prod at him in ways he could only imagine… it was almost more than one man could stand.

Something along these lines, perhaps?

Wishing he could go at this very moment he was so overcome with anticipation, Dennis settled back into his chair and tried to convince himself the anticipation was part of the experience. He’d just have to make do with his imagination until tomorrow came. “I bet I hear people screaming as they lead me down the halls,” He thought to himself with barely contained relish. “Then I’ll be put in a small little room and left to wait all alone for an indefinite amount of time. Then they’ll come in and force me to lay down. They’ll talk to each other using a language I can’t understand but its sharp and guttural sound will have my skin crawling as they are most definitely discussing my imminent torture. There will be strange machines in the room, all with the sole intent to rip me to shreds,” Dennis swallowed the last of his scotch and slammed the glass on the desk in excitement, “Hot damn! I just love going to the dentist!”

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The Not So Fantastic Reality:

The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:

ONE:      Today marks a milestone in my life. Today, I went to the dentist. Yeah, yeah, I know, big whoop right? Wrong. It is indeed a ‘big whoop’. You see, I hate the dentist… no, that isn’t exactly correct. What I hate is a bit more complex- I hate disappointing people. I hate disappointing people to such an extreme that my last dental visit was over 6 years ago because they made this mistake of telling me I had the teeth of a woman 15 years my senior. This comment, along with a pretty steady barrage of being told I didn’t floss enough, I was brushing wrong or I had another cavity that needed filling, etc. traumatized me to the extent that going back in six months, a year, two years, six years seemed masochistic. I know, I have ‘issues’. Let’s not focus on the negative, shall we? Good. The point is, I went. And, surprisingly it wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was rather pleasant. Everyone was extremely nice, I was allowed to wear my Ipod during the entire process (except for X-rays) and shocker, I had no cavities! Besides a minor freak out after the tech took my blood pressure and asked if I was nervous (um, yeah I was alright until you asked me that and now I’m totally freaking out because I think I’m dying since obviously my blood pressure is not normal which means my heart is going to explode at any minute…but no, I’m like, totally fine) I’m very proud of myself and how well I kept it together.

What do you mean, "Am I nervous"? Do I look nervous?!?!?

Love & Squirrels.

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Day #223: Who’s That Knockin?

The Story:

The knock on the door jolted her from a semi-conscious state brought on by the dregs of a head cold and too much daytime TV. “Who on earth?” Tamera wondered to herself, still startled. Tamera was one of those private people who hated to be disturbed at home; the feeling wasn’t all that dissimilar to being barged in on while in the ladies room- in Tamera’s mind it was an acute sense of violation. To make matters worse, Tamera was in a particularly uncharacteristic state of dishevelment this morning, haven taken the day off sick from work. Usually impeccably dressed, today Tamera was dressed in nothing more than a ratty t-shirt, underwear and socks, her hair a rat’s nest thanks to a night of restless tossing and turning. At 10:26 in the morning, she had yet to even shower. Surrounded by used tissues and emptied ginger ale cans, Tamera felt as if she had been discovered in the midst of some unsavory act as the visitor knocked a second time, a bit louder than the first.

Having always harbored an inexplicable fear of answering the door (she suspected it traced back to a night in high school when she opened the door for the pizza delivery guy in her favorite pink feety pajamas with duckies only to come face-to-face with her high school crush, there to ask her to the prom… or so she assumed since all he ended up doing was laugh hysterically before leaving and never speaking to her again) Tamera was feeling the all-too familiar sense of terror creep into her chest, making the congestion had been battling for the last several days all the more unbearable. “Maybe if I just close my eyes and will them away, they will eventually go away,” she thought to herself. A third knock convinced her otherwise, it was like they knew she was there.

Sliding of the couch and suppressing the growing urge to cough, Tamera tip-toed through the living room and slinked past the front door and the awaiting intruder on the other side. Trying to sneak a look at who it might be, she silently entered the front room and peered through the blinds. Unable to catch a glimpse of her visitor from her vantage point, Tamera slowly let the blinds fall closed and considered her options. “Do I ignore them, and hope they go away? Or, do I throw on a robe and allow whoever this is to potentially disrupt the day of nothingness I was joyfully anticipating for today?” Letting her curiosity get the better of her, Tamera high-tailed it to her bedroom where she quickly pulled on her winter robe and tying it securely around her waist ran to the front door. Standing there, frozen in anxiety for a few seconds, she finally turned the deadlock and peeked through the opening.

“Tommy!” Tamera exclaimed as she flung the door open, her attempt to wrap her visitor in a bear hug temporarily postponed as a coughing fit overwhelmed her and she doubled over as the hacking racked her body. Wiping the tears of exertion from her eyes, she eventually stood up and smiled at the happy surprise that was her visitor. “When did you get home!” she squeaked and hugged her big brother long and hard, instantly forgetting that minutes ago she had wished him away.

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The Not So Fantastic Reality:

The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:

ONE:      I’m a hermit. I have always been a very private person, and when it comes to my home, I can be rather, eh… protective? Sure, we’ll go with protective. It’s not that I don’t like having people over, or entertaining, I just like LOTS of warning and plenty of time to prepare (the house and my state of mind) for any kind of visit. So, when someone knocks on my door, and I am not expecting them, I tend to freak out a little, which is what I did today. My immediate reaction to such an event is to instantly hide and hope that whoever it is will just give up and go away. And that is exactly what I was planning on doing today when someone began knocking at my door at 10:30 this morning. Having stayed home from work due to this stupid cold that won’t quit, I had a lovely day of sitting on the couch, drinking ginger ale and napping planned. And then, the knock. I would have just let them bang away all morning, if the knock was not also accompanied by a familiar voice. So, quickly racing to my room to throw on my robe, I returned and opened the door. And there he was, my little bro, James, visiting from California! We ended up spending the day together, just hanging out at my house mostly, and it was really nice to just chill with him- something I haven’t done in years. So for once, I’m very glad I answered my door.

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Me & James

Love & Squirrels.